A MAGICIAN.
On finding that Cousin Benedict did not return to his quarters at the
proper hour, Mrs. Weldon began to feel uneasy. She could not imagine
what had become of him; his tin box with its contents were safe in his
hut, and even if a chance of escape had been offered him, she knew that
nothing would have induced him voluntarily to abandon his treasures.
She enlisted the services of Halima, and spent the remainder of the day
in searching for him, until at last she felt herself driven to the
conviction that he must have been confined by the orders of Alvez
himself; for what reason she could not divine, as Benedict had
undoubtedly been included in the number of prisoners to be delivered to
Mr. Weldon for the stipulated ransom.
But the rage of the trader when he heard of the escape of the captive
was an ample proof that he had had no hand in his disappearance. A
rigorous search was instituted in every direction, which resulted in
the discovery of the mole-track. Here beyond a question was the passage
through which the fly-catcher had found his way.
"Idiot! fool! rascal!" muttered Alvez, full of rage at the prospect of
losing a portion of the redemption-money; "if ever I get hold of him,
he shall pay dearly for this freak."
The opening was at once blocked up, the woods were scoured all round
for a considerable distance, but no trace of Benedict was to be found.
Mrs. Weldon was bitterly grieved and much overcome, but she had no
alternative except to resign herself as best she could to the loss of
her unfortunate relation; there was a tinge of bitterness in her
anxiety, for she could not help being irritated at the recklessness
with which he had withdrawn himself from the reach of her protection.
Meanwhile the weather for the time of year underwent a very unusual
change. Although the rainy season is ordinarily reckoned to terminate
about the end of April, the sky had suddenly become overcast in the
middle of June, rain had recommenced falling, and the downpour had been
so heavy and continuous that all the ground was thoroughly sodden. To
Mrs. Weldon personally this incessant rainfall brought no other
inconvenience beyond depriving her of her daily exercise, but to the
natives in general it was a very serious calamity.
The ripening crops in the low-lying districts were completely flooded,
and the inhabitants feared that they would be reduced to the greatest
extremities; all agricultural pursuits had come to a standstill, and
neither the queen nor her ministers could devise any expedient to avert
or mitigate the misfortune. They resolved at last to have recourse to
the magicians, not those who are called in request to heal diseases or
to procure good luck, but to the _mganga_, sorcerers of a superior
order, who are credited with the faculty of invoking or dispelling rain.
But it was all to no purpose. It was in vain that the _mganga_
monotoned their incantations, flourished their rattles, jingled their
bells, and exhibited their amulets; it was equally without avail that
they rolled up their balls of dirt and spat in the faces of all the
courtiers: the pitiless rain continued to descend, and the malign
influences that were ruling the clouds refused to be propitiated.
The prospect seemed to become more and more hopeless, when the report
was brought to Moena that there was a most wonderful _mganga_ resident
in the north of Angola. He had never been seen in this part of the
country, but fame declared him to be a magician of the very highest
order. Application, without delay, should be made to him; he surely
would be able to stay the rain.
Early in the morning of the 25th a great tinkling of bells announced
the magician's arrival at Kazonndé. The natives poured out to meet him
on his way to the _chitoka_, their minds being already predisposed in
his favour by a moderation of the downpour, and by sundry indications
of a coming change of wind.
The ordinary practice of the professors of the magical art is to
perambulate the villages in parties of three or four, accompanied by a
considerable number of acolytes and assistants. In this case the
_mganga_ came entirely alone. He was a pure negro of most imposing
stature, more than six feet high, and broad in proportion. All over his
chest was a fantastic pattern traced in pipe-clay, the lower portion of
his body being covered with a flowing skirt of woven grass, so long
that it made a train. Round his neck hung a string of birds' skulls,
upon his head he wore a leathern helmet ornamented with pearls and
plumes, and about his waist was a copper girdle, to which was attached
bells that tinkled like the harness of a Spanish mule. The only
instrument indicating his art was a basket he carried made of a
calabash containing shells, amulets, little wooden idols and other
fetishes, together with what was more important than all, a large
number of those balls of dung, without which no African ceremony of
divination could ever be complete.
One peculiarity was soon discovered by the crowd; the _mganga_ was
dumb, and could utter only one low, guttural sound, which was quite
unintelligible; this was a circumstance, however, that seemed only to
augment their faith in his powers.
With a stately strut that brought all his tinkling paraphernalia into
full play, the magician proceeded to make the circuit of the
market-place. The natives followed in a troop behind, endeavouring,
like monkeys, to imitate his every movement. He turned into the main
thoroughfare, and began to make his way direct to the royal residence,
whence, as soon as the queen heard of his approach, she advanced to
meet him. On seeing her, the _mganga_ bowed to the very dust; then,
rearing himself to his full height, he pointed aloft, and by the
significance of his animated gestures indicated that, although the
fleeting clouds were now going to the west, they would soon return
eastwards with a rotatory motion irresistibly strong.
[Illustration: The entire crowd joined in. _Page_ 441.]
All at once, to the surprise of the beholders, he stooped and took the
hand of the mighty sovereign of Kazonndé.
The courtiers hurried forward to check the unprecedented breach of
etiquette, but the foremost was driven back with so staggering a blow
that the others deemed it prudent to retire.
The queen herself appeared not to take the least offence at the
familiarity; she bestowed a hideous grimace, which was meant for a
smile, upon her illustrious visitor, who, still keeping his hold upon
her hand, started off walking at a rapid pace, the crowd following in
the rear. He directed his steps towards the residence of Alvez, and
finding the door closed, applied his strong shoulder to it with such
effect, that it fell bodily to the ground, and the passive sovereign
stood within the limits of the enclosure. The trader was about to
summon his slaves and soldiers to repel the unceremonious invasion of
his premises, but on beholding the queen all stepped back with
respectful reverence.
Before Alvez had time to ask the sovereign to what cause he was
indebted for the honour of her visit, the magician had cleared a wide
space around him, and had once again commenced his performances.
Brandishing his arms wildly he pointed to the clouds as though he were
arresting them in their course; he inflated his huge cheeks and blew
with all his strength, as if resolved to disperse the heavy masses, and
then stretching himself to his full height, he appeared to clutch them
in his giant grasp.
Deeply impressed, the superstitious Moena was half beside herself with
excitement; she uttered loud cries and involuntarily began herself to
imitate every one of the _mganga's_ gestures. The entire crowd joined
in, and very soon the low guttural note of the sorcerer was lost,
totally drowned in the turmoil of howls, shrieks, and discordant songs.
To the chagrin, however, both of the queen and her subjects, there was
not the slightest intimation that the clouds above were going to permit
a rift by which the rays of the tropical sun could find a passage. On
the contrary, the tokens of improvement in the weather, which had been
observed in the early morning, had all disappeared, the atmosphere was
darker than ever, and heavy storm-drops began to patter down.
A reaction was beginning to take place in the enthusiasm of the crowd.
After all, then, it would seem that this famous _mganga_ from whom so
much had been expected, had no power above the rest. Disappointment
every moment grew more keen, and soon there was a positive display of
irritation. The natives pressed around him with closed fists and
threatening gestures. A frown gathered on Moena's face, and her lips
opened with muttered words clear enough to make the magician understand
that his ears were in jeopardy. His position was evidently becoming
critical.
An unexpected incident suddenly altered the aspect of affairs.
The _mganga_ was quite tall enough to see over the heads of the crowd,
and all at once pausing in the midst of his incantations, he pointed to
a distant corner of the enclosure. All eyes were instantly turned in
that direction. Mrs. Weldon and Jack had just come out of their hut,
and catching sight of them, the _mganga_ stood with his left hand
pointing towards them and his right upstretched towards the heavens.
Intuitively the multitude comprehended his meaning. Here was the
explanation of the mystery. It was this white woman with her child that
had been the cause of all their misery, it was owing to them that the
clouds had poured down this desolating rain. With yells of execration
the whole mob made a dash towards the unfortunate lady who, pale with
fright and rigid as a statue, stood clasping her boy to her side. The
_mganga_, however, anticipated them. Having pushed his way through the
infuriated throng, he seized the child and held him high in the air, as
though about to hurl him to the ground, a peace-offering to the
offended gods.
[Illustration: "Here they are, captain! both of them!!"]
Mrs. Weldon gave a piercing shriek, and fell senseless to the earth.
Lifting her up, and making a sign to the queen that all would now be
right, the _mganga_ retreated carrying both mother and child through
the crowd, who retreated before him and made an open passage.
Alvez now felt that it was time to interfere. Already one of his
prisoners had eluded his vigilance, and was he now to see two more
carried off before his eyes? was he to lose the whole of the expected
ransom? no, rather would he see Kazonndé destroyed by a deluge, than
resign his chance of securing so good a prize. Darting forwards he
attempted to obstruct the magician's progress; but public opinion was
against him; at a sign from the queen, he was seized by the guards, and
he was aware well enough of what would be the immediate consequence of
resistance. He deemed it prudent to desist from his obstruction, but in
his heart he bitterly cursed the stupid credulity of the natives for
supposing that the blood of the white woman or the child could avail to
put an end to the disasters they were suffering.
Making the natives understand that they were not to follow him, the
magician carried off his burden as easily as a lion would carry a
couple of kids. The lady was still unconscious, and Jack was all but
paralyzed with fright. Once free of the enclosure the _mganga_ crossed
the town, entered the forest, and after a march of three miles, during
which he did not slacken his pace for a moment, reached the bank of a
river which was flowing towards the north.
Here in the cavity of a rock, concealed by drooping foliage, a canoe
was moored, covered with a kind of thatched roof; on this the magician
deposited his burden, and sending the light craft into mid-stream with
a vigorous kick, exclaimed in a cheery voice,--
"Here they are, captain! both of them! Mrs. Weldon and Master Jack,
both! We will be off now! I hope those idiots of Kazonndé will have
plenty more rain yet! Off we go!"